


neurodiversity university

by starkslovemail



Series: earth-207, the stark-rhodes timeline [2]
Category: Iron Man - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Autism, Autistic Tony Stark, Dyslexia, Dyslexic James "Rhodey" Rhodes, Gen, James "Rhodey" Rhodes & Tony Stark at MIT, James "Rhodey" Rhodes Needs a Hug, MIT Era, Pre-Relationship, They Both Get Hugs Don't Worry, Tony Stark Needs a Hug
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-13
Updated: 2020-12-13
Packaged: 2021-03-10 06:34:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,704
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27929833
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starkslovemail/pseuds/starkslovemail
Summary: “So, I just left Stonewell’s office, and he let it slip that we’re doinggroup projectsfor the final,” Tony’s face contorted in disgust.James mirrored his expression, drawing back in repulsion, “I thought Stonewelllikedus.”Tony gestured emphatically, eyes lighting up, “See, that’s whatIsaid, but he justlaughed.”“Traitor,” James muttered darkly.
Relationships: James "Rhodey" Rhodes & Tony Stark
Series: earth-207, the stark-rhodes timeline [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1558591
Comments: 18
Kudos: 104





	neurodiversity university

**Author's Note:**

> i wrote [a tumblr post](https://starkslovemail.tumblr.com/post/632885347871768576/so-i-was-thinking-about-how-different-disabilities) a while back about rhodey being dyslexic and tony being autistic, and there was a little drabble attached, so like... here's the full story in all its splendor ✌🏾😗

James and Tony were easy friends.

Their class schedules didn’t overlap much because Tony being a triple major was impressive on paper but _insanity_ in practice. He didn’t actually enter MIT with any college credits to his name, so he was starting from scratch with a schedule packed to kingdom come and nine separate self-study courses that had him bouncing across campus to meet with different professors about the various topics he was teaching himself.

But somehow, that didn’t stop them from hanging out.

After that night at the SigEps house, the universe had apparently decided that they couldn’t be kept apart because they went from never seeing each other beyond diff EQ to bumping into each other almost every day. Tony was usually running from one department to the next, inhaling coffee like it was his lifeblood, careening into James as the other boy was trying to break down the composite of the week for his materials class.

Every so often, Tony would turn up at James’s double with a bottle and some academic journals, and they’d get a happy buzz going as they burned through their work. He’d even stopped going to parties with Ty, instead tagging along with James whenever Oliver dragged him out.

It was something James was quietly grateful for and never mentioned.

In turn, James joined Tony in tutoring during A-Chi-O study sessions, the sorority sisters adopting him just as easily as they had adopted Tony a few months before. They’d crash in James’s double afterward, high on sugar and good vibes as they chattered about whatever randomness crossed their minds before they got up the next morning and did it all over again the next week.

It was _bliss._

James was sitting in the library, working his way through the final edits for a _very_ annoying essay for his comp class. It was his fifth time going through it, and he was sure there were more typos and missing words he hadn’t caught yet, but the more he stared at the screen, the less sense the words made to his brain.

He leaned back into his seat and groaned, sending it to the printers.

After collecting his essay, James spread the pages out on the table in front of him. With a frustrated huff, he began the grueling task of going over every word, sounding each out under his breath as he looked for errors with a highlighter at the ready to keep track of them.

He was midway through the second page when the universe gave him his daily Tony sighting.

“Rhodey, we have a _problem._ ” James looked up in time to see Tony plop down across from him, hummingbird frequency more jittery than normal. The other boy was fiddling with an origami star, flicking at it the points in a random pattern.

James set his highlighter down, happily accepting the distraction. “What’s the problem?”

“So, I just left Stonewell’s office, and he let it slip that we’re doing _group projects_ for the final,” Tony’s face contorted in disgust.

James mirrored his expression, drawing back in repulsion, “I thought Stonewell _liked_ us.”

Tony gestured emphatically, eyes lighting up, “See, that’s what _I_ said, but he just _laughed.”_

“Traitor,” James muttered darkly.

“Do you know how many group projects I did when I was being homeschooled? None, and it was _perfect,”_ Tony ranted, rapid-fire heat behind his words. “And then Howard ships me to Massachusetts, and there’s a group project like, _every week_ at Andover, and all my partners were so _awful,_ Rhodey, you have _no_ idea.”

“Oh, I have an idea,” James deadpanned.

He had had more than his fair share of awful partnerships, but the worst ones were when he had started skipping grades. It was one thing to be ten with other ten-year-olds who wanted nothing to do with the paper mâché volcano you were supposed to making, but it was another thing entirely when you were _twelve_ in a group of _sixteen_ -year-olds.

Especially when those sixteen-year-olds had absolutely _no_ desire to listen to you when you tried to explain that they were going to _blow up_ the chem lab if they dumped _that much_ potassium into the solution all at once.

It was even worse when they had some sort of paper to write because _then?_ Then they thought they were better than James because they were faster and made fewer mistakes when writing, and _that?_ That was a whole other layer of frustrations.

In conclusion, James didn’t miss high school in the slightest.

“Exactly, everyone knows group projects suck ass,” Tony continued. “If I can do it by myself, _why_ should I have to work with someone else?”

“Not everyone is a genius, Tony,” James reminded him dryly.

 _“You’re_ a genius,” Tony shot back. “And you know I’m right. If you could get away with doing it yourself, you totally would.”

James stared at Tony incredulously, but the other boy was steadfast in his pointed gaze. Finally, James looked, away, rolling his eyes, “Okay, _fine,_ yes, I would. Are you happy?”

“Ecstatic,” Tony grinned at him brilliantly before abruptly dropping his star on the table and looking away in thought.

“… Tones?”

“Wait, wait, wait,” Tony groped for his train of thought externally, fingers tapping through a pattern on the table as he searched.

“Waiting,” James replied slowly. It didn’t take long. He saw the exact moment the lightbulb turned on in Tony’s brain, head cocking to the side ever so slightly as he found what he was looking for.

Tony gave a little nod to himself before turning back to James, a look on his face the other boy couldn’t quite read, “Okay, okay, so Stonewell said we’d be in groups of four, but _our_ section has fifty-four people in it.”

“So, two groups of three,” James filled in the obvious conclusion.

“Or _one_ group of _two,”_ A conspiratorially cheeky grin spread across Tony’s face. “Two boy geniuses to be specific.”

James considered.

On the one hand, _hell yes._

Partnering with Tony wasn’t just the lesser of two evils, it actually sounded like _fun._ Whenever they’d first started working on their homework together, James had noticed a level of atypical disorganization to Tony’s process that he found painfully familiar. Working with Tony wouldn’t be as much of a headache as normal group projects were, and James _wanted_ that, he wanted it so much he didn’t think he could put it into words.

But on the other hand, “Would Stonewell actually let us do that?”

“I repeat, _boy geniuses,_ so if we crash and burn—which we _won’t,_ he has plausible deniability,” Tony reasoned. “Besides most of our class is like, _twenty,_ so I don’t think they’ll be mad if we try to partner with each other.”

James reconsidered.

“You have to be the one to ask.”

Tony would like the record to show that he is a _genius_.

Honestly, the record probably _already_ showed that, but the devil was in the details. Tony wasn’t just a genius in practical academics, he was _also_ a genius of interpersonal relationships because working with Rhodey? His best idea to date, hands down.

With Rhodey, it was _easy._

They spent a night piggybacking off of each other’s thoughts and ideas, the linear stability analysis taking place over several games of Connect Four. They were sugar-fueled ramblings, but they made _sense,_ and so did the diagrams they scrawled out.

And the fact that Rhodey was _okay_ with just talking it out? The fact that Rhodey trusted they’d both _remember_ based on the diagrams instead of writing out detailed explanations?

James Rhodes was something _special_ , and Tony wished he had known Rhodey at Andover, wished that it had been Rhodey instead of Ty that Howard had shoved at him when he’d moved back to America.

But Rhodey was here now, and it made Tony vibrate on his happiest frequency.

They stood side by side in Rhodey’s double, admiring their completed posterboard on the linear instability of a free-surface shear flows, both sporting proud smiles.

“We did this in what, _four days?”_ Rhodey gave a disbelieving laugh. “Are we sure we didn’t miss anything?”

“Nope,” Tony grinned.

“Nice,” Rhodey nodded as he grinned right back. He went to start tidying up their supplies, “Do we drop it off during the final timeslot or before?”

“Uh, it’s on the instruction thing, lemme check,” Tony dug through his backpack for the yellow instruction sheet. He smoothed out the crumpled bits and did a quick scan for a date and time. In the process of doing that, his eyes caught something that made him stop in his tracks, “… Oh, no.”

Rhodey looked up with a snort, brow raised in question, “What, is it due at ass o’clock in the morning?” When Tony didn’t respond, still staring at the instruction sheet like it was about to eat him alive, a concerned frown overtook Rhodey’s face. “… What is it?”

“Apparently,” Tony began, trying to wrap his head around the words he was staring at, “we’re supposed to do a written report and present everything _during_ the final timeslot.”

“Wait, are you _serious?”_ Rhodey reached out for the paper to read it for himself, and Tony handed it over eagerly before he started pacing the length of the dorm. “How did we miss that?”

Tony shrugged emphatically, letting out an undiscernible huff of air as he tried to stamp down his building panic.

Things had been going so _well._

And now, Tony didn’t know how to explain that their project was about to go downhill because his brain didn’t work the way most brains worked. He couldn’t just _do_ a presentation like that. The posterboard was quick and easy and Rhodey was so _very_ understanding, but the fairytale had to end at some point.

They always did.

Andover had sucked not just because he was younger than everyone else, but also because his work process was chaotic, and none of his classmates wanted to deal with him.

If Rhodey didn’t want to deal with him after this, Tony didn’t know what he was going to do.

“I… I guess I’ll start an outline?” Rhodey offered, hesitant in a way Tony didn’t have time to understand because oh, shit, he said _outline,_ and now, Tony was _doomed._

He froze, unsure of how to respond.

More time must’ve passed than he realized because Tony blinked, and suddenly Rhodey had stepped in front of his field of vision, a frown on his face and his hands raised like he wanted to reach out, “Tones, are you okay?”

Against his better judgement, against everything inside him _screaming_ at him to keep his damn mouth shut and just _do the thing,_ Tony wanted to explain.

Because Rhodey was _different._ Rhodey was nice and caring and had walked him out of a frat house when he was covered in puke because he knew what Ty was doing was _beyond_ fucked. And Rhodey hadn’t ditched him, hadn’t pushed Tony away because he was fourteen but looked twelve and was too smart for his own good because Rhodey was _sixteen_ with the remnants of a babyface and was _also_ too smart for his own good.

Rhodey _understood_ in a way no one else did.

So maybe Rhodey would understand this too?

And even if he didn’t, maybe he’d be nice about it?

“I’ve never written an outline a day in my life,” he admitted quickly, words tumbling out before Tony could make sure they were the right ones. “The words kind of just come out how they want to, and then I move them around until they look right. It’s fucking weird, but it _works,_ and it’s the only reason I survived at a normal school.”

“Oh,” Rhodey’s hands dropped, but it wasn’t a _bad_ kind of drop, so Tony kept going.

“And, and, and figuring out presentations basically go the same way? Only it’s verbal because _speaking,_ which you obviously know because that’s usually how presentations go, but yeah, um, yeah.” Tony cut himself off before he could do any more damage. “You can make an outline if you want, but I make _no promises_ to use it, Rhodeybear, not a single one because I don’t know if I _can.”_

And wow, great, his nerves were climbing rapidly, skipping stairs in their ascent until they met his guilt at the top because that came out more than a little wrong. Even though he said he couldn’t, it sounded a little like he said he _wouldn’t,_ and then what would Rhodey think? That he was being difficult _on purpose?_

But when Tony finally found the will to meet his friend’s eyes, Rhodey looked _relieved_ at Tony’s failure of a confession.

“I can’t write outlines for _shit.”_ Rhodey paused briefly after speaking, a sheepish acquiescence following shortly, “I mean, I can’t really write papers for shit either, but yeah. The more I write, the less it makes sense.” He turned away from Tony casually, picking up his backpack as he continued, “I’m pretty sure the alphabet is out to get me because I’ll put down one thing, and then when I go back, it says something completely different.”

Sitting on his bed, Rhodey dug around in his dark green bag, “If you write the paper, I could maybe swing some note cards for the presentation, but I don’t know.”

“No note cards, they fuck with my eyes,” Tony said quickly. Apparently, he was getting all of it out of his system at once, “And I need my hands free to present.”

“Need your _hands_ free?” Rhodey repeated under his breath, confusion obvious. It took a few seconds before his head popped up suddenly, a question in his eyes, “Wait, are you _autistic?”_

Tony gave a jerky nod, waiting for the other shoe to drop.

“Oh, cool,” Rhodey nodded easily. “For a second, I was wondering if it was ADD.” He shrugged before going back to his backpack, “Either way, fuck the note cards.”

Tony blinked blankly, mind screeching to a halt because that wasn’t a shoe. “Wait, _what?”_

“I’m dyslexic,” Rhodey filled in the blanks purposefully, and the verbal admission seemed to remove the last of the tension in his body that Tony hadn’t realized was there until it was gone. He shrugged, finally fishing something out of his backpack, “Note cards aren’t gonna do anything but make me trip over myself.”

And _that_ was as much of a shoe dropping as any Tony had ever experienced, but it wasn’t the one he was expecting. Still, it was a welcome one, a _very_ welcome one.

Because Rhodey _understood,_ and wow, that explained a lot.

Tony plopped down on the opposite bed, tension draining from his own body as he gave his anxiety the boot, _“God,_ I wish you were at Andover with me. We would’ve been _unstoppable.”_

Rhodey laughed, his smile like sunshine. “So, you’re good writing the paper?”

Tony let out an affirmative hum, drumming out a happy little tune on the bed frame, “I’ll start it tonight.”

“Cool,” Rhodey nodded. He held up a tape recorder, the mystery object he had been looking for, “I’ll figure out the presentation if you’re okay with listening to my tapes.” He flushed a bit, and Tony took note of just how pretty it made him look, “I kind of hate written notes.”

Okay, Tony had to laugh at that one.

He _had_ to laugh because wow, Rhodey was _perfect_ for him.

Grinning like a madman, Tony fished out his own recorder, brandishing it to the other teen proudly, “Fuck written notes.”

Rhodey’s eyes widened incredulously before he let out a laugh of his own, “Fuck written notes.”

They sat like that for a while, laughing and lighter in a way that could only come from the shared understanding they had discovered in each other. And Tony looked at Rhodey with his smile like sunshine, his big brown eyes that shone with both mischief and care and a thousand other things words would never be able to describe, and he wondered if this is what Jarvis had meant when he said he’d find his place at MIT.

Because he never wanted to leave Rhodey’s side.

**Author's Note:**

> if y'all wanna see any other neurodiversity university stuff pls let me know!! i'm still writing that "taking in harley" fic so i can move on with the "plot" of this series, but mit rhodeytony also has a treasure trove of stories i wanna write while i procrastinate 🥰
> 
> i have a [tumblr](https://starkslovemail.tumblr.com) if you wanna stop by and say hello, okie thanks bye!!! 💛💫


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